The Springtime of Our Lives
by KuriQuinn
Summary: Everyone goes through it. Unfortunately.
1. Flowering Time

**Original Prompt: "** Can you write about team 7 going through puberty? – Anon"

 **Disclaimer:** This story utilises characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelisations, comics or short stories is intended by KuriQuinn in any way, shape or form. This fan-oriented story is written solely for the author's own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

 **All plot and Original Characters except for those introduced in the canon books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn. (© KuriQuinn 2016- )**

 **Author's Note:** This isn't exactly new, but it was only posted on tumblr. Since tumblr is now doing stupid things and I'm worried I might lose my stuff because their system for flagging inappropriate content is complete shite, I'm backing up everything. Ao3 and Quotev will have my NSFW stuff, as well as the Dreamwidth account I've linked to tumblr. Everything else will be uploaded here, FFnet and wattpad.

 **Warning:** This story deals with puberty. And all the awkwardness that entails. Periods and awkward boners and zits and everything.

* * *

The latest mission is a complete snafu.

Team 7 is sent out to help watch a shepherd's flock after he and his entire family come down with a debilitating flu. It's lambing season, when thieves and predators stalk the herd, and so the Hokage saw fit to send a genin squad to keep an eye out.

It should have been a simple mission, something which Naruto complained loudly about the whole way there. It turns out, though, that watching sheep is more difficult than expected, and not for the difficulties common sense might suggest. In fact, sheep have an innate genius for self-inflicted harm. The beasts are too stunned to file through an open gate, but apparently have an inventive talent for getting themselves killed.

Sakura and the rest of her team spend three days following the woolly demons to keep them from wandering off high bluffs, choking themselves on low-hanging branches or tree roots, and poisoning themselves on toxic plants. They almost lost one to drowning, and at some point, Naruto came up with the bright idea to scare them into running into their pen, instead starting a stampede.

And then there was the wolf.

 _Everything just went bad after that_ , Sakura thinks with a wince.

Everything hurts, from her eyelids to her breasts.

Not that they're _really_ breasts. She can barely see them when she examines herself in the mirror at night, wishing jealously for the same chest growth-spurt that Ino has already experienced. Still, they ache enough to make their existence known. Almost as much as the stabbing pains in her abdomen.

 _I swear, if I caught some bacteria or bug while tramping through the mud and sheep crap, I am going to_ kill _Kakashi._

All Sakura wants to do right now is curl up in her bed and sleep.

Somehow, everything is rubbing her the wrong way right now. Her hands sting hotly, sweat-covered and yet chapped, and there's a blister blooming beneath the ball of her left foot. Every crevice of her feels too hot and damp and _chafing_. It's as if she's far too big for herself, and she is far more conscious of the smell of her body than she would like.

 _I need a shower like_ right _now_ , she decides vehemently, and wondering in silent horror if her teammates can smell her.

Almost the moment this fear rises up, Naruto calls her name suddenly.

"Oi! Sakura, you're bleeding. Why didn't you say you were hurt?"

Their little travelling quartet come to a stop. Everyone is looking at her in curious concern, while Sakura blinks at the sudden attention. Her other two teammates follow the line of Naruto's gaze, and Sakura can do nothing but follow their cue, glancing down to see what everyone is staring at.

A red-brown stain spreads across her tunic several inches beneath her navel.

She is confused, because she hasn't noticed any wound to cause the blood. Going over their adventures that morning, she doesn't recall any instance that could have injured her in such a way. She glances over at Kakashi, whose sharp eyes examine her with experienced gravity, and then peeks at Sasuke, who seems as confused as she is. His eyes flit over her with a curtness that doesn't quite hide concern, and then they widen with something close to realisation.

A beat later, his cheeks go red; she can't understand his look before it snaps away.

"Ah," Kakashi says quietly, like this is something he was expecting.

Later, Sakura will be embarrassed at the several moments it takes for the small, blossoming stain of red-brown to make sense, and the additional time it takes for the significance of its location to set in. When it does, she experiences a jolt to her heart and the tingling sensation of her cheeks losing blood. Consciousness of her body's various sensations all rush back to her then, the cramping pain throughout her pelvic area, the damp sensation between her legs and up across her tailbone, the vague nausea—

She's never gone through it before, but she knows without doubt what it is.

It's her period.

Sakura is finally menstruating after waiting on it for _ages,_ and she didn't notice because the aches and pains of their mission masked it. She experiences a bizarre compulsion to laugh at that—

 _Hah! And Ino doesn't even have_ hers _yet! She's gonna be so jealous that I'm a woman first, Shannaro!_

—before another realisation crashes into her.

She's gotten her monthly bleeding in front of her three teammates.

Her three _male_ teammates.

Two of whom are the absolute last people she would want to know about this, because one is the boy she's utterly in love with and the other one is Naruto.

Sakura yelps and vaults into the tree-lined path, away from them and ignoring the shouts for her to return.

She doesn't stop until she finds a shaded bush off in the distance, where she can discreetly try to deal with the problem. A swath of bandages in her med kit serve as a makeshift pad within her underwear to stop some of the flow, but her clothing remains saturated. There's no scrubbing the blood from the front or back of her tunic.

 _Why? Why? WHY?!_

She knocks her head against a nearby tree, as if that will keep the hot blush from her cheeks. Tears gather in her eyes, as much out of mortification as her growing awareness of just how much her abdomen hurts.

Several yards away and out of view, she hears a familiar cough and cringes.

"Will you be alright, Sakura?" Kakashi asks, calm as usual. He's very good at keeping any inflexion out of his words, but she saw his eyes before she fled. He is not comfortable with this.

"I…I'll be fine. I'll be right back," she sniffs, hoping she can keep from crying; that's all she needs right now is to have puffy eyes on top of this! What would Sasuke say?!

"Sakura, you have nothing to be ashamed of," Kakashi goes on, and she winces, expecting him to transition into an awkward talk about the 'mysteries of her body' the way her mother did. "Have you gone through this before?"

"…No," she whispers.

"Do you need me to explain…?"

"No!" she yells that before she can stop herself, and then in a quieter voice she adds, "I know what to do. My…my mother told me. And we…we had a class."

"Alright." He sounds relieved. "Then you also know that you have to report to the hospital when we get back to the village? All shinobi must be on some form of birth control for field missions once they…once the time is right."

"I know that," she retorts, tone short as she hugs her elbows to herself in embarrassment. _She just wants to be done with this!_

"This is not something to be ashamed of, Sakura," Kakashi tells her gently, and she realises she spoke out loud.

She clenches her eyes shut, humiliated.

"I know, I know! the miracle of life and now I'm a woman and all that! I already know all that, Kakashi-sensei, so please—"

"It's not just that," he interrupts. "Think of it as your body's way of conditioning you."

Sakura pauses at this, having never had it put that way to her before.

The woman who taught her and the other girls about the menstrual cycle explained it in soft terms such as 'moon time' or visits from 'Little Miss Strawberry', a time of her body weeping because it had no child. That it was a sign of a woman's weakness that needed to be overcome by ignoring both the pain and crudeness of it.

Her ears perk up. "Conditioning _?_ Like _training?_ "

"Exactly," Kakashi says.

Sakura pauses, and then cautiously comes out from behind her hiding space to consider her instructor. He is lingering against a tree, casual and unimposing, and keeping a respectful distance.

"What do you mean?" Sakura asks, taking a tentative step forward, though the bushes still obscure her lower body.

"You are capable of handling greater discomfort than either Sasuke or even Naruto will ever be able to do," Kakashi tells her. "Considering the pain both of them have had in their lives already, that's rather substantial."

 _Wait, what?_

"As kunoichi, you're expected to meet all the same standards as male shinobi—and that's while enduring a regular pain that men never can," he continues. "That makes you stronger in many ways. And that's not even referring to those women who choose to become mothers. They're in a category of their own. That magnitude of strength was never meant to be a source of shame; if it was, it would not have been a function necessary to human survival." He cocks his head, meeting her gaze. "Don't you think?"

"I-I…"

Sakura's thoughts stagger together at that, because it makes the kind of obvious sense that she feels silly for not considering earlier. If she hadn't had people telling her from childhood that this was the sort of thing she had to hide or be worried about others knowing, she might have reacted to its occurrence with mere curiosity. Or shrugged at it as a quirk of the female human body.

Even her mother, in her sympathetic way, told Sakura that it was a woman's task to ensure no man knew if she was undergoing her 'flowering time'.

"Men are uncomfortable about this sort of thing," Mama informed her when Sakura was the age to start asking questions. "So, it's better to only talk about these matters with other women around."

Girls at school always talked about accidentally bleeding through their clothes with the same severity of losing control of their bladder in public.

 _One of those things I can control; the other, I can't._

The notion is one she suddenly understands that not many people—even other women—are able to make.

"Well?"

Kakashi is still watching her face, the gleam in his eye suggesting he's watching her come to her important conclusion and glad that she has.

"Yes," Sakura agrees, and it feels almost like something invisible or intangible has settled irreversibly into place. "That makes sense."

"I thought so, too," he agrees. "I'll tell my girlfriend that she's incredibly smart."

Sakura snorts at this. "Right. As if I'd believe _you_ have a girlfriend."

"I _do_."

"No offense, Kakashi-sensei, but no one who reads as much porn out in the open could get a girlfriend," Sakura tells him. "Women have _standards."_

Kakashi's wide eyes suggest he is gaping at her, and then he sighs loudly.

"No respect…," he sighs in a long-suffering voice, and glances up at the sky to judge the time. "Anyhow, it's getting late. We can either sit here in this bush forever, or we can get up and go home. I'm open to both, but personally I'd suggest the latter, because at some point we're all going to get hungry. And between you and me, I don't trust Naruto not to try to kill and cannibalise Sasuke."

"As if Sasuke would let him," Sakura sniffs, automatically coming to the defense of the Uchiha boy. Kakashi's eyes crinkle a bit at that, and Sakura can't help her own tiny smile. Then she exhales and steels herself: if she can handle walking back into Konoha with blood seeping through her clothes, she can do anything.

This is _not_ something to be embarrassed about.

 _Besides, maybe everyone will just think I was wounded on the mission_ , she adds in something too false for hope. It's very obvious where her bleeding is coming from, so she's not especially confident about that possibility. _Come on! Just suck it up and go!_

Of course, as usual, it's easier to brave in her head than it is outside.

Kakashi perhaps notices her hesitation, because he suddenly shrugs out of his flak jacket; a red spiral tattoo stands out starkly against the pale skin of his bicep. Before she can comprehend his puzzling action, he pulls it inside-out by the sleeves until only the dark-blue interior shows and holds it out to her.

"Your choice, if you want," he tells her, and Sakura gratefully accepts.

 _I'll be brave about bleeding through my clothes some other day_ , she decides as she wraps the jacket around her waist; the sleeves hang across her front in a way to obscure the stain there. _Just…not today…_

She feels that, considering the misadventures with the sheep, she is totally justified in not feeling very confident right now.

"Let's go," she says at last, fighting against the nervous tremble in her voice as she stands up.

She tries not to feel so very conscious of the feeling of her thighs rubbing and the wadded pad of linen between her legs.

Sakura tiptoes out from behind the bush and heads back to the road where Sasuke and Naruto are waiting. They're loitering noticeably, and when she gets within three feet of them, the three preteens look at each other and then quickly look away.

Kakashi returns and says, "Let's get going, kids," and heads onward. In uncomfortable silence, his students follow him.

While they continue their walk, Naruto sneaks glances at her, oddly tense. Sakura suspects Kakashi explained to him what was going on before he came looking for her. The blond boy looks unsure if he's grossed out or intimidated or in awe of her, and so has settled for rude staring.

 _As if_ he _has any business staring at me?!_

Sakura is about to reach over and punch him for it, when he swivels suddenly and demands of Kakashi, "Hey, Kakashi-sensei, did that tattoo hurt? I wanted to get one for becoming a genin, but the stupid old man doing the tattoos said it hurt too much for kids. I told him I could take it, but he didn't believe me. Maybe if you put in a good word for me…?"

The babble is louder and more noticeable than usual, the way forced conversation tends to be, but it's a step back to normal. Sakura relaxes a bit, glad that Naruto isn't going to be his usual tone-deaf self and start asking a bunch of embarrassing questions.

It's hard to be completely at ease, though, especially as Sasuke doesn't even look at her. That makes her already shaky confidence waver. What if this embarrasses him so much he can never look at her again without remembering her bleeding through her clothing?

But then while Naruto starts to describe the tattoo he wants (a robot fighting a giant lizard), Sasuke suddenly speaks: "Ginger."

"Huh?" Sakura says for wont of anything intelligent to say.

"Ginger tea," he clarifies, not looking at her but, is she imagining it, or is the back of his neck red. "My father always made my mother ginger tea when she was… It eases the pain."

"I…yeah, my mother says that, too," Sakura replies shyly, cheeks warming once more. It's so rare that he talks about his family, that she almost forgets what he's making reference to.

"It's also easier to find than something like dark chocolate if we get assigned a long mission away," he continues. "We should all stock up."

He quickens his pace then, putting distance between them and an effective end to any further possible conversation.

But the rest of Sakura warms at that. Though she knows he is simply taking this all in his usual logical stride—a member of his team experiencing monthly bouts of pain could affect their mission—it's still a show of Sasuke's concern.

It almost makes up for him having witnessed the most embarrassing moment in her entire life.

Almost.

つづく

* * *

 _I was originally going to have this be a short one-shot with each of our team members going through a different, humorous challenge. But while I was writing Sakura's bit, I started to move away from the humour theme and started to tap into an annoyance I've always had about how people talk about girls going through puberty. Women are shamed about their periods from long before they even have them, conditioned to hide them and feel guilty when they accidentally bleed through their clothes or are too pained by cramps to go outside. And heavens forbid they even mention it within the hearing of a man, for goddess sake, his sensibilities! *gasp*_

 _So, this fic sort of evolved into a three-parter dealing with the not-so-fun bits of puberty in a more informative, open-manner. If you want to see me write the funny side of puberty, check out Walk a Mile. I'll be dealing with it there. For this 3-parter, though I'll examine the emotional and physical toll it can take on kids going through these changes, especially in a mixed-group setting. That's not to say there won't be any humour, but that's not going to be the focus. I hope that's okay, since the prompt didn't specifically require humour…_

 _Anyhow, that's my long-ass postscript. Until next time!_

I hope you enjoyed the story! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated, and very motivating—and if you enjoy my writing, want updates or just to chat, I'm on Tumblr and Twitter (KuriQuinn).

 **栗**


	2. Stripling

_Not again._

The sentiment is the only coherence Sasuke's mind is capable of just then as he rouses suddenly and uncomfortably from his sleep. His heart races, lungs heaving and legs shaking, and he's agonizingly conscious of the unpleasant dampness across his legs and belly. The last of the haze fades with his sleep, annoyance and disgust rapidly replacing it.

Somehow, the cold darkness of his room seems even more so in his discomfort.

 _Fuck._

He shoves his thin blanket aside and bolts from the hard cot, stripping off his clothing with economic efficiency. He ignores his body's instinctive shiver of protest as he stalks across his cavernous quarters.

The grotto where he sleeps is dimly lit with torches, but he doesn't really need their glow to light his way. His eyes are better than any lamp, and though the rock of the riverbed is slippery beneath his bare feet, his footing is certain.

Like most of Orochimaru's hide-outs, the cavern complex is located underground in one of the numerous damp and twisted tunnels. Sasuke normally feels a distant sort of annoyance with life underground—it feels too much like hiding to him, which is a coward's way—but this bolthole is to his liking. It's constructed around an underground river, one of whose tributaries flows through Sasuke's own lodgings. That means instead of the communal facilities in the centre of the complex, he can bathe or wash his clothing in privacy.

Right now, he does just that, scrubbing doggedly at the loose black trousers he sleeps in. He beats them against a rock outcropping, intending to eradicate every trace of stain there. It's not blood, though he's had to clean that out of his clothes often since arriving to train with the legendary Sannin; Orochimaru does not pull punches just because of Sasuke's age.

 _In some ways, it's so much_ worse _than blood._

Despite the cold, Sasuke's cheeks burn.

When he first started having mornings like this, waking surrounded by damp bedsheets, his immediate reaction was panic and shame. Bedwetting is the action of a child and—barring the horrible months directly after his clan's murder, when memories of Itachi's genjutsu often loosened his bladder at night—Sasuke hasn't wet the bed since he was three.

Unsurprisingly, realising the actual reason for the soggy sheets in the morning did not make him feel better or less ashamed.

A shinobi's education is beyond comprehensive for matters of biology and physiology, and that doesn't even account for everything Sasuke has learned since Orochimaru started teaching him. He had classes in biology at the Academy, of course, and memorized that information with ease.

The connection between physical body and chakra is more than a mental one, often manifesting physically. There's also the necessity of knowing the exact placement of internal organs, or the junctures where joints are particularly weak, or the exact breaking point of certain bones. Shinobi are often assigned assassinations, after all.

Even before he lost his family, and along with them anyone with whom he might connect personally over these types of problems, he was passive in his knowledge of the human body. It was just another tool to mould in his ever-present quest for revenge.

He spent almost ten years of his life forcing his body to bend to his will and obey him in everything.

To discover that this was something he had no control over was…frustrating, to say the least.

And it didn't stop him from _trying_ to control it.

Once the confusion and shame wore away, replaced with angry resolve, Sasuke dealt with the matter as well as he could. He woke up earlier than before, pacing back and forth until his traitorous flesh returned once more to his control. He wore looser clothing to disguise his lower body during the day and became an expert at making comments that distracted others from noticing his physical discomfort. Or worse, when he had to readjust his shorts.

He soon learned fretting did nothing; if anything, it made his problem last longer. There wasn't anything more to do than sit uncomfortably and grit his teeth, because any wrong movement sent tingling jabs of sensation shooting up through his body.

There was one morning that he took care of the issue himself, impatient to make it go away faster. The task itself wasn't unpleasant, and for a brief moment he actually experienced fully body relief as the coiling tension within him let go.

But almost immediately, he experienced a sense of shame and rebuke well up within him.

How could he dare to give in to his unruly hormones and treacherous body? How could he dare feel anything good, or let his mind focus for an instant on something other than his lofty goals for revenge?

His inner recriminations were enough to erase whatever pleasure came from the act, and eradicate any future temptations for self-gratification.

These days, Sasuke sleeps on his side, training himself to keep blankets or clothing from twisting across his body. When he wakes, he tries to move carefully, not wanting any part of his body to react to stimulus. On particularly difficult mornings he recites whatever technical treatises Orochimaru or Kabuto give him to read, anything pedantic enough to keep is mind busy while his body returns to its normal state.

But every now and again—more often than he would like—there a mornings like this one, where he wakes to the evidence of his body's rebellion.

Despite the fact that he has an excellent memory, and the Sharingan preserves images so well, Sasuke never remembers the dreams. Probably it's because they're the product of an overactive brain, and not something his eyes have copied.

(He thinks that's probably for the best.)

The icy burn of the water temperature is almost painful now, to the point that he would almost— _almost_ —rather wait out his discomfort on his bed. But that has its own complications.

Cohabitating with someone like Kabuto has been an experience.

The medic is always taking skin or hair samples from other subordinates, those who have volunteered or been co-opted into Orochimaru's experiments. The whole practice unnerved Sasuke when he first realised what Kabuto was doing. That was about the time he started being very careful about leaving any trace of himself within reach of the medic. Before leaving his quarters, he would study his room with the Sharingan for minute traces of anything that might be used for… _untoward_ activities.

Perhaps not wanting to alienate an already distrustful child, Orochimaru decided that Sasuke's physical health would be monitored personally by him.

 _By them_ , Sasuke corrects with a small frown, stumbling over the best way to describe his teacher. The confines of grammar are somehow insufficient to deal with a being like Orochimaru.

Sasuke hasn't had to worry about needles or invasive tests or anything beyond what he would undergo in the care of a regular physician. The only difference is he undergoes monthly physicals instead of biannual ones, as a means of keeping track of his progress, as well as a regimented diet to optimize his energy output. There's not as much fruit and vegetables to it as Sasuke would like (it's mostly bioengineered soldier pills), but it does the job.

It strikes him as odd, and perhaps a little ironic, that he feels less threatened by the Snake Sannin than their subordinate. But then, Orochimaru has always been up front about their intentions and the way they intend to achieve those.

Kabuto speaks out of two sides of his mouth.

It's clear that he is used to finding peoples weaknesses and exploiting them without mercy. It's a tactic Orochimaru uses, too, but somehow different. The Snake Sannin always has some larger goal in mind and doesn't mock or taunt beyond the exact increment needed to achieve a desired result.

Sasuke was surprised in his first months training with Orochimaru to discover that they were not an entirely the malicious entity he had expected. In fact, he's come to realise that Orochimaru is just very, _very_ amoral. They're a scientist first and foremost, and it's the pursuit of results in their studies which have made them ruthless.

Kabuto does not seem to have any other goal but to manipulate those around him.

 _It's easier to trust a scientist than a spy, I guess_ , Sasuke decides, wringing out the sodden material in his hands. Goosebumps spread across his bare skin, up the flesh of his calves and back, eradicating whatever lingering warmth might remain from the nocturnal…incident.

Sasuke hates his human body for it inborn weaknesses.

Worse than the embarrassment are the erections themselves, because those aren't limited to his sleeping hours.

It happened to him during training a few weeks ago, and luckily he was sparring with Orochimaru at the time, instead of Kabuto.

"This is a normal biological function," the Snake Sannin dismissed when Sasuke's flustered anger led him to make several obvious mistakes. "Simple evidence that you're a healthy adolescent male. Undisciplined, perhaps, but healthy. There's no reason such a thing should distract you."

Sasuke snarled at that, not wanting to acknowledge the subject.

"The human body is but an earthly vessel for the spirit—a temporary transport. You know this," Orochimaru continued, gesturing to their own host body. They had long since shed the outward appearance of their last host. "Your mind can control that when you're awake, but when you sleep, you relinquish some of that control."

"Then how do I _stop_?" Sasuke demanded at last, albeit through clenched teeth.

"Practice, of course. What do you think I've been trying to teach you? It's not just training your body to become strong, but your mind must be strong as well."

 _Or else it won't survive the_ Fushi Tensei _,_ the snake Sannin didn't say, though Sasuke was just as aware of his teacher's end goal as always.

"I can't focus on training either when I'm dealing with _this_ ," he complained. As if to add insult to injury, his voice cracked, making his words end on a high, questioning note rather than a low growl of menace.

For a wonder, Orochimaru hadn't mocked him, though they looked amused.

"If you are so impatient to control your baser human urges, there are other options," they suggested. "A simple operation, and that bothersome testosterone will never trouble you again."

"No."

Sasuke surprised himself with the speed with which he refused that offer. And though Orochimaru chuckled at it, they didn't pursue it.

Sasuke frowns in the darkness, going over the incident again.

Oh, he doesn't believe that he'll ever have children. Given the fact he's dedicated himself to annihilating the last of his family, he doesn't believe he deserves to build another.

But agreeing to a sterilization procedure might suggest he believes Orochimaru to be some kind of threat that might use Sasuke as the progenitor of countless, mindless Sharingan-wielding bodies. It would seem like a coward's safeguard, a confirmation that he worries Orochimaru will defeat him at that arbitrary future date.

And Sasuke is too stubborn to give the old snake the satisfaction of _that_.

Against his will, his thought stray to Sakura and Naruto and Kakashi. He tries not to dwell on the idea that losing himself to Orochimaru has anything to do with them. It's a challenge, but one that gets easier each time.

He no longer thinks of his home or the people in it with a gnawing feeling of regret. Sometimes he can even manage distant detachment, when he's exhausted himself of chakra and his body no longer moves at his command.

That surprised him most when he first arrived here: the homesickness.

It wasn't that his resolve wasn't strong; he'd almost killed his best friend in his determination to prove that. But severing bonds, it turned out, wasn't like the cut of a sharp sword. Much as he tried—and he should have known this from the years spent grieving and hating Itachi—his emotions persisted in longing for impossible things.

It honestly felt more like the fruitless hacking of a blunt axe than anything else.

He knows Naruto is no longer in Konoha—Kabuto reported that a few months after Sasuke defected. He suspects his former teammate has gone off with that white-haired degenerate who taught him the Rasengan. And Sakura might have remained behind in the village, but she's training as a medic, according to Kabuto reports.

Having seen what Orochimaru's underling is capable of, Sasuke understands just how dangerous an opponent this will make Sakura, should they ever encounter each other. The way Orochimaru speaks of the Fifth Hokage is never in the same dismissive vein as their feelings on Jiraiya. There's a grudging respect there that Sasuke has only ever detected when the Sannin speaks of the Third Hokage or Hanzō of the Salamander. Sasuke imagines the only times the Snake Sannin has ever come truly close to death has been during encounters with one of those three.

He's even more curious about whether Orochimaru would change the outcomes if they had the chance. Orochimaru enjoys learning from mistakes almost as much as succeeding.

His clothing now clean and his raging blood once more under control, Sasuke climbs out of the water and pads toward his bed. Beside it is the only furniture in the room, a low table, where his garments and belt are folded.

Taking up the clothes to dress in, he lays out the wet trousers flat so that they can dry better. Though they are now clean, he still scowls down at the wet fabric.

 _It could be worse_ , he thinks grimly, as he shakes out his white shitagi. _I could still be in Konoha right now and going through this nonsense_.

第七班

* * *

 _I hope I voiced Sasuke okay in this. I figure up until a certain point in his life he probably viewed sex as an obstacle, so I tried to evoke that here._

 _And yes, Orochimaru is gender-neutral. I don't care what anyone says. Also, based on how he answered Mitsuki's questions, I figure he would be pretty chill about puberty stuff. Like, of all the adults except for Tsunade, he'd probably be the least embarrassed. I'm always reading these fics where Orochimaru is after Sasuke in a sex way, and (except for that one fic where it was only just alluded to), I just don't see it. I'm pretty sure he's ace or some permutation thereof and getting involved in anything sexual just takes time away from becoming immortal or whatever._

 _I hope you enjoyed the story! Comments and constructive criticism are much appreciated, and very motivating—and if you enjoy my writing, want updates or just to chat, I'm on Tumblr and Twitter (KuriQuinn)._

 **栗**


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